The plum pit in decantered wine
The soot on the mantle,
all along your heavy gothic lies,
you mixed thick and decantered, in
glass of Maias' lovely black eyes.
We made the arrangements,
and set them brotherly between the King
and a spaniel's smile. under curtain lace
and the last of Victoria's light she brings.
They paid the mill-wright lawfully, careful
to lay black feather of pig iron and lead.
A sunken blackbird, dead in cursing, wrought
and melting ore,
where flees the black angel from his bed.